


me, myself, and i

by starkidpatronus



Series: waiting for one day [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Las Vegas, M/M, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, POV Zayn, Up All Night Tour, Vegas 2012
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 18:07:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15418635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkidpatronus/pseuds/starkidpatronus
Summary: love is so blind,it feels rightwhen it’s wrong.





	me, myself, and i

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by Zayn's flawless cover of "Me, Myself, and I" by Beyonce. This fic requires some basic knowledge of what happened at the 2012 Vegas show, which I'm guessing you already know about if you're here. If you don't, Danielle came to a 1D show unannounced and Zayn punched a wall and Liam sang the last line of "More Than This" right to Zayn and it was. Hell. And so, the stage is set.

                Zayn slams his glass down on the bar, and signals to the bartender for another. He doesn’t really know where he is, some dive bar in whatever city they’re in, fuck if Zayn knows which one. Right now, he doesn’t know anything beyond the look in Liam’s eyes when he told Zayn that Danielle was coming to the show.

                Watching the amber whiskey pour into his glass, he wonders vaguely if he could write a song about how the whiskey could be his tears. The label would probably eat it up. Churn it out for another song about how heartbreakingly in love they all are with some nameless, faceless woman.

                “’Thought I’d find you here,” Louis’s chipper voice at his side comes as a surprise, but it shouldn’t.

                “How’d you find me?” he asks and takes a sip of his whiskey.

                “Oh, of course you’re in a dive bar drinking whiskey, mate,” Louis replies, taking a seat on the bar-stool next to him. “You’re so predictably dramatic, it’s adorable.”

                “Fuck off.”

                But Louis just laughs and waves the bartender over, ignoring Zayn’s clear indication that he’d really rather be alone right now. Louis orders a pina colada, just to piss Zayn off, he knows, and there’s something comforting about it. When Louis gets his glass, he taps it against Zayn’s, and Zayn rolls his eyes, taking another sip to hide his begrudging grin.

                Louis lets another moment pass, then finally inquires, “You want to talk about it?”

                “Fuck no,” Zayn answers, and downs the rest of his drink. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and nods to the bartender for another.

                Louis eyes Zayn’s glass and asks, “How many of those have you had?”

                “None of your business.”

                “Yeah, it is, since I’m the one who’s going to have to drag your drunk ass back to the hotel,” he retorts. “You’re lucky you don’t have to ride the bus like this.”

                “Yeah, that’s me,” Zayn says bitterly as the bartender refills his glass. “Just the luckiest guy in the world.”

                “Aw, Zaynie,” Louis says, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. “I didn’t mean it like that; I’m sorry.”

                “I know.”

                “And I’m sorry about…tonight.”

                “Yeah,” Zayn says plainly, “me too.”

                Louis lets another moment of silent drinking pass, then points out, “You know, he didn’t say he chose her.”

                “He didn’t have to,” Zayn points out. “Actions speak louder than words.”

                “Don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit?”

                “She was at the _show_ , Lou.”

                “Yeah, but you’re at every show!”

                “Very funny.”

                Louis cracks a grin, then lets his features flatten out again. “To be fair, it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t _know_ she was coming or anything.”

                “That’s the whole point!” Zayn exclaims. “ _She_ came unannounced, because _she_ doesn’t _have_ to announce herself. She can waltz into his life anytime she wants. _I’m_ the one who has to sneak around like some secret mistress in the night.”

                “Well,” Louis says, looking like he doesn’t want to say this, “you kind of are.”

                “Thanks, mate.”

                “But it doesn’t have to end up like that!” he adds. “He _could_ choose you.”

                “He won’t.”

                “He will.”

                “Don’t say that like it’s certain.”

                “Then you can’t do the same.”

                Louis looks at him like he’s challenging him for a moment, and Zayn challenges right back. Then, he sighs, and mutters, “You just don’t get it.” Shaking his head, he takes another sip of his whiskey.

                “Oh, I don’t?”

                “No, you don’t,” he insists. “Because things were so fucking easy for you and Harry, you just ran into each other’s arms and that was fucking that. You don’t know what it’s like to be…uncertain.”

                “Hey, we’ve been uncertain!” Louis protests. “At first, I had no idea where I stood with him. It took time to get where we are now. And it will take time for you guys, too. But you’ll get there.”

                “Maybe.”

                “Have a little faith, Malik,” Louis instructs, and downs the rest of his pina colada. “Now, can we get out of here? We do have another show tomorrow, darling.”

***

                It’s three AM when he gets a knock on his door. Liam, of course, ever-polite Liam, asks if he can come in. The answer is yes, because of course it’s yes, because Zayn can protest and deny and bitch and piss and moan all he wants, but at the end of the day, he’ll always let Liam in.

                After Zayn opens the door, Liam stands in the doorway for a moment while Zayn looks at him with raised eyebrows. Zayn lies back down on his bed, picking his book back up. Liam lets the door close behind him, and stands there a moment longer, looking around the room, as if wondering where he’s meant to go. Waiting for Zayn to invite him to sit on the bed. Zayn rolls his eyes as he pats the sheets. Liam gives a small smile as he sits on the edge of the mattress.

                Zayn isn’t going to talk first. Zayn _refuses_ to talk first. He waits, and when it becomes apparent Liam is going to continue to let them sit in silence, he sighs and goes back to reading.

                “Whatcha’ reading?”

                Zayn closes his eyes, then opens them to glare at Liam. “Really?”

                Liam sighs, looking down at his fidgeting hands. “What do you want me to say, Zayn?”

                Zayn scoffs. “That’s for you to figure out.”

                “I’m trying.”

                “You know what I’m reading, Liam, it’s the same damn book I’ve been reading all tour. If you’re trying, don’t act like an idiot.”

                Liam sighs again. “I’m sorry.”

                “What for?” Zayn shrugs. “She is your girlfriend, it makes sense that she would come to a show.”

                “I didn’t know she was coming until she was in my room,” Liam says urgently, leaning closer to Zayn and forcing him to meet his gaze. “I swear, I had no idea. She just—showed up. If I had known, I would have told her not to come.”

                Zayn squints. “Is that true?”

                Liam doesn’t look away from Zayn’s challenging gaze, until he does. Looking down, he mutters, “At least, I would have told you she was coming, so you could—prepare.”

                “Prepare for what, Liam?” Zayn tosses back. “Seeing the woman you’re so very in love with, that everyone loves you with so very much?”

                “I can’t change how other people see things!” Liam argues. “The fact that they don’t know about what’s going on between us isn’t something I can change.”

                “Oh, but they certainly know about what’s going on between you and her,” Zayn retorts. “She made sure of that tonight.”

                “Well, it wasn’t like I could stop her,” Liam says, frustration seeping into his voice. Finally, a real reaction. “She just showed up! What did you want me to do, tell her to leave?”

                “Yes.”

                “She’s still my girlfriend, Zayn.”

                “Yet you’re fucking me every night.”

                “Yeah, that’s sort of the point of an open relationship.”

                “Is it? Or is it just an excuse for you to not make a decision?”

                “Zayn…”

                “Just admit it, you’re a coward,” Zayn says nonchalantly, flipping a page in his book. “You couldn’t even tell her not to come to the show. Don’t worry, Li, I know you’re going to choose her.”

                “No, you don’t!” Liam protests. “ _I_ don’t even know that. But I’m not going to just shut her out of my life without even breaking up with her.”

                “You could just break up with her.”

                “I could, but it’s—complicated.”

                Zayn huffs, petulant and pissed off. “Yeah. Sure.”

                “It is!” Liam says. “Look, I—I still care about her. A lot.”

                “Why don’t you just admit you’re dragging on something that’s already died?”

                “Because—I’m not sure it has,” Liam confesses, not meeting Zayn’s eye. “Part of me still loves her.”

                “How large is that part?”

                “Z—”

                “How. Large.”

                “Not as large as the part that loves you.”

                “What?”

                “I—I love you, Zayn.”

                “Fuck you,” Zayn spits out. He angrily wipes the tears from his eyes, because _honestly_ , fuck that. He’s not about to give Liam the fucking satisfaction. “You don’t get to say that right now. You do _not_ get to use that right now. God, I can’t fucking believe you.”

                “But it’s true!”

                “I don’t give a fuck if it’s true!” he yells. “You know this is not the time to be telling me that!”

                “Then when is?”

                “Gee, Liam, I don’t know, maybe when you’re not with someone else,” Zayn replies, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “and telling me you still love her!”

                “ _Part_ of me still—”

                “Shut up with that shit,” he orders. “That part is still you, you still love her.”

                “But I don’t know how.”

                “What the fuck does that mean?”

                “I mean—I may not be _in_ love with her anymore,” Liam confesses softly. “I…I don’t feel the same way I used to about her.”

                And Zayn can’t help but soften at that. Quietly, he asks, “How so?”

                “Like,” Liam says, and stops, mouth becoming a thin line. He tries again, “When I used to look at her, it was like I was looking at the beginning and end of everything. Like I could see the whole world in her eyes. But now…I don’t see that anymore. I just see someone I can barely hold a conversation with.”

                “You can’t have a conversation with her anymore?”

                “Not really,” he confirms, shifting on the bed, so one leg is tucked under the other. “It’s so exhausting trying to talk to her now. It used to be like we were always on the same wavelength, but now, it’s…it’s like we’re not even talking the same language. I don’t know what’s changed, but…something has.”

                “But you still love her?” Zayn checks, brow furrowed.

                “Yeah,” Liam responds, nodding. “Yeah, definitely.”

                “It doesn’t sound like it,” Zayn mutters.

                “I know,” Liam says. “But I mean—it’s not all bad. There are times when we _can_ talk, sort of. And that’s still good. Not as good as it used to be, but still good. It’s just—so rare now. Most of our relationship is just fighting.”

                “Then why do you want to be in it?”

                “Because she’s still Danielle,” Liam says plainly. “And part of me will always love her, for what she’s made me. And there are times when she can still make my heart jump.” Zayn shuts his eyes. “I know. I know you don’t like hearing that, I—”

                “No, no,” Zayn cuts him off, eyes still closed. “It’s fine, I can take it.” He opens his eyes. “I’m a grown-up. And we’re being honest, so.”

                “Yeah.” Liam looks down again, rubbing the fingers of his right hand over his knuckles of his left. He lets a moment pass, then says, ever-earnest, “I really am sorry.”

                “I know,” Zayn responds. “And I know it’s hard. And I’m sorry if I’m making it harder by overreacting.”

                “You’re not overreacting.”

                “She’s your girlfriend; of course she—”

                “Zayn,” Liam cuts him off firmly. “You’re not. You have every right to be upset. And I’m sorry I can’t give you more than this right now. But I want to, one day.”

                Zayn thinks about commenting on that particular word choice, but decides to let it slide. He focuses on the “one day,” and knows how this will all end.

                “Right.” Nodding, he gives Liam a small smile. “Then I’ll just keep waiting for one day.”

                Liam shakes his head. “I don’t deserve you. Or her. I don’t deserve either of you, not after what I’ve been putting you through.”

                “Hey.” Zayn places a hand on Liam’s arm. “Yes, you do.”

                “I don’t—”

                “Liam, you deserve the whole world,” Zayn says simply, “and nothing you say or do will ever change that.”

                “In _your_ eyes,” Liam replies, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “And I will never understand why.”

                “Don’t you know that my opinion is entirely factual?” Zayn teases, jutting his chin out. “For someone who claims to love me, you know shockingly little about me.”

                Liam laughs. “Right, of course.” Then, the laughter fades, and he faces Zayn entirely when he declares, “I mean it, you know. I do love you. That way.”

                “I know,” Zayn answers. “And I do, too. But I can’t say it yet. Not like this.”

                Liam nods shortly, as if that was the answer he’d been expecting, but still not the one he’d wanted to hear. “I get it. Don’t worry about it.”

                Zayn smiles gratefully, swallowing past the lump in his throat. Liam smiles back, and for a moment, Zayn steps outside of himself and sees the two of them, sitting on his hotel bed. Smiling at each other like old friends or lovers or both. Like everything is going to be okay. It’s like looking at two people walking to their executions, believing they’ll go to Heaven only to find out Heaven isn’t real. None of what they’ve ever believed is real.

                “So, are we good, then?” Liam checks.

                “Yeah,” Zayn confirms, nodding. “We’re good.”

                “Awesome.” Liam flashes him that stupid grin that always makes Zayn’s heart stop for a second, then stands up. “Well, I’ll let you get back to reading.”

                “Yeah,” Zayn agrees, holding up his book. “Thanks.”

                Walking to the door, Liam says, “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow.”

                Opening his book back up, Zayn replies, “Yup.”

                Out of the corner of the eye, he can see Liam linger at the door for a moment, as if he wants to say something else. Apparently deciding against it, he opens the door and exits without another word.

***

                The next show goes fine. Zayn is good at pretending he and Liam really are good. And they are, sort of.

                But Zayn is no longer under any illusions about what is happening here. Liam _will_ choose Danielle. He knows this in his heart of hearts. Liam had said he wanted to give Zayn more “one day.” In Zayn’s experience, “one day” means “never.”

                In a way, it’s freeing. He’s no longer chasing the dream of a life with Liam, _just_ Liam, no sharing. Now, he can kiss Liam and cuddle with Liam and fuck Liam without thinking about how much better it would be if he knew he was the only one doing these things with Liam. He can just take it all for what it is: Fun moments between friends that they’ll one day laugh about at Liam’s wedding.

                Which is the way it should be. Liam should be with Danielle. The two were _made_ for each other. Zayn was stupid for daring to try to get in the middle of that, for thinking he ever could. Some things are set in stone. Others are fancies that fade with time. Zayn is used to having his hopes belong to the latter group.

                When Liam says he loves Zayn while he rides Liam, Zayn believes that Liam believes it. And if he cries at night with Liam curled around him, no one has to know.

                No one will ever know.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed!! I'm definitely open to prompts for this fic, so if you have any, feel free to send them to me at thewriternotthemuse.tumblr.com. :) <3


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